Chance Encounter
by ZJeM
Summary: What, or who, can you meet when you go to a Japanese bar to get dead-plastered?


**Disclaimer: **I don't own 'Death Note' - Õba Tsugumi & Obata Takeshi do.

**Dedicated to ****MxMSupporter**** (if it wasn't for her, I wouldn't even see Matt and Mello as a pairing) and ****mellie**** (my loyal reviewer who wanted a dedication ;))**

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_**Chance Encounter**_

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The glass hit the counter with a loud clink. He exhaled, his breath hitching when he heard a sigh coming out of his throat. His eyes narrowed. He couldn't allow himself to have any weaknesses. Not then, when those stupid underdogs were all dead and he had a pile of fried meat for the left side of his face, hidden in the shade of his coat's feathered black hood at the moment.

And yet he still had to defeat that damn weird, white-haired, fucking annoying _first one_. He had to prove he was better.

No, weaknesses didn't come in count.

"Another one" he mumbled to the tattooed Japanese trying to act as a bartender. What was he drinking, again..? It didn't matter, he'd stopped recognizing it's taste after the first few gulps, anyway. What _was_ important was that it killed the ache of the still-bleeding wound a fucking lot better than all those so-called _painkillers_.

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He was going to have a giant hangover the next day... A new smell attacked his nostrils and he snorted, frowning. Really? Now he had to put up with some low-category smokes too?

He turned to the source of the smell fiercely. Since when was the stool next to him taken? He had to be _really_ drunk not to notice the approach of the unknown... Teen? Man? He could be both, for what Mello saw in the faint light. The blond squinted his eyes to get rid of the dizziness in his head and examine the stranger.

He was wearing high boots, the strangest pair of jeans Mello'd ever seen, a vest edged with some synthetic fluff and a long-sleeved jersey with black and red stripes.

The guy noticed that he'd been staring and turned to him, covering Mello's eyes with a new portion of smoke and making him cough. The blond stood up hastily, snorting and shaking with a force of anger. His stool fell down with a rumble, making every pair of eyes in that hovel turn to him and the guy who was going to have it hard in a few seconds.

Mello's fingers clutched on the collar of the other man's vest. "Excuse me" he growled "Would you be so kind as to not make me suffocate in this shit of yours?" The stranger lifted his head and Mello's eyebrows furrowed at the sight. Why did he seem so familiar..?

He shuddered at the sound of the guy talking. "Long time no see, Mello" he said, every cigarette he'd smoked heard in his voice. Mello'd come across that voice before... Although he remembered it as more of a healthy, free of addiction man's.

He swallowed with difficulty, as his throat was dried out by the amount of the burning liquid he'd poured in himself.

He didn't know neither the silhouette of the guy nor his clothes nor orange goggles hanging from his neck. He had never seen that vivid red hair. But that voice and those green _eyes_ sure brought back memories...

"Matt..?" he rasped out uncertainly. The stranger's face brightened with a smile.

"Sharp as always, huh?" he said, leaning backwards a bit to take the entire blond's form in his sight. He gave out a quiet whistle. "Wow, man. You look good"

Mello snorted. "Really? With _this_ for the left side of my face?" Matt looked at the blond's hood falling back on his shoulder blades, his face unmoved. That surprised Mello. "Does it not bother you..?" he mumbled, mentally cursing the confusion in his voice. Matt shrugged, turning to the bartender who'd obviously been observing the whole situation.

"A beer, please. But the strongest one you have" he said in fluent Japanese. Mello frowned.

"Since when do you know Japanese?" he asked in English, their mother tongue. He'd only just noticed that Matt had been using the language all along. He picked his stool up from the floor and fell back on it.

The redhead turned back to him and smiled. "One question at a time, please" he chuckled, taking another cigarette out. He lit it and took a deep drag before continuing. "The wound doesn't bother me, why should it?" were his first words in English. That accent suited him better, the blond thought. Matt eyed him inquiringly. Mello lifted his glass to his lips again.

"Dunno, it usually does that to people" he mumbled, feeling the other's eyes on himself but not returning the look. He saw the redhead nod in understanding in the corner of his eye.

"And Japanese... You know what they say... _When in Rome, do as the Romans do_" He killed the fag and added "When in Japan, speak Japanese. When in Deutschland, get your tongue round _Arbeitsunfähigkeitsbescheinigung_" He chuckled again.

"How many countries have you been to?" Mello asked, suspecting what the answer might be. He was right, as Matt shrugged.

"I didn't count" he answered, draining half of the bottle the Japanese had brought at once. He winced. "The usual piss" he grumbled, placing the bottle on the counter. "So" he added in a more cheerful voice "What have you been up to?"

There was silence between the two as Mello thought about the answer. What was he up to..? He had to defeat Near, that he was sure of. He'd come to Japan as it was the main scene for the battle against Kira, which equaled multiplying his chances. But how _exactly_ was he going to achieve his goal..?

Fuck, thinking hurt in his current state.

"I should be looking for my place, I guess" he muttered, propping his cheek on his hand and staring at Matt with half-lidded eyes. The redhead nodded.

"And do you have anything particular in mind?" he asked, finishing his bottle and motioning for the bartender to bring another one. Mello snorted.

"I've never been the one to have an exact _plan_, you know that" he answered lazily. Matt grinned.

"Yeah, I forgot" he looked at the blond as if debating something in his mind. After a while, he spoke "Why don't you stay at my place, then?" His offer immediately sobered Mello up.

"What?!" he croaked out. Matt shrugged, taking a sip from the new bottle.

"Even a gamer like me could use some company from time to time" He glanced at Mello's dropped jaw and smiled. "Even better if it's my former roommate. At least I'm not buying a pig in a poke, right?"

Mello kept silent, thinking the offer through. True, it was a benefit that they were used to living together. But could he really stay with Matt, having a definite purpose for coming to Japan in mind? Wouldn't they get in each other's way? What was the redhead even doing in his life, apart from playing games and being the nerd he'd known in general?

"My goal... Are you sure I won't be a bother..?" he asked, a part of his mind wondering why he hadn't just gone for Matt's words without doubts. Since when did he care about overusing people?

Matt's smile widened. "My life's more boring than Roger's sermons anyway. You'd only make it more exciting, I bet" He wasn't even conscious of how much he was stroking Mello's ego with the words... The blond hoped his overly boosted mood was only an outcome of himself being drunk. He didn't like relying what he felt on other people.

"I guess we're arranged then" he mumbled, drinking the rest of his glass' content and placing a bill on the counter. He stood up and walked a few steps unsteadily before turning to his old-new companion. "Shall we get out of this shit?" he asked, his face disobeying his brain's orders and forming a loop-sided smirk. Matt returned the smirk, adding some money to what Mello'd left behind a moment before.

"Sure thing, Mellie-chan" he teased, coming closer. Mello's eyes narrowed.

"I'll just consider it an effect of your intoxication and not give you a solid punch in your gut" he said grimly. Matt chuckled.

"Sure thing, Me-"

"I really _am_ going to do it if you don't shut up" Mello growled out. The redhead smirked, wrapping a hand around the other's waist. "What are you doing?!" Mello hissed, mentally cursing his voice for becoming a pitch higher than usually.

"Supporting you. I'm less drunk than you are, can save us both the humiliation of picking you up from a gutter" Matt answered with a sweet smile. Mello's eyes widened.

"You've always been crazy" he mumbled, however hesitantly hanging his arm over the redhead's shoulder.

"I know, right?" Matt chirped out, making Mello roll his tired eyes. He needed some sleep, and he needed it _fast_... "You know your ass is really something, don't you?" Matt's calm question had immediately livened him up.

"_WHAT?!_" he rasped out. The redhead snickered hoarsely. "Are you a faggot or something?!" Mello asked in a raised voice, his mind going completely numb from shock. Matt looked him in the eyes with a mischievous smirk plastered to his face.

"Never said I wasn't, Mellie-" What stopped him was Mello's fist aimed at his diaphragm, quite accurate, for as drunk as he was.

"I told you you're gonna get it for that damn nickname" the blond grumbled as the other one coughed and cursed, bent in half. After a while, a quiet laugh escaped Matt.

"Anyway, saying your ass's fetching doesn't mean I'm gonna attack you from behind with the little me" he said, straightening. Mello took a deep breath and grabbed his forehead that was starting to pulsate annoyingly. He didn't know if it was the hangover already or the revelations Matt'd fed him with.

"Where are we going, anyway?" he asked in a tired voice.

"I'm glad you're asking" Matt's voice held the marks of excitement. "To the Batmobile!" he exclaimed in a hoarse emotional voice of an old dying asthmatic.

"You really should stop smoking..." Mello muttered as they walked to a car parked under the only lamp in the alley. He took a good look of what Matt'd called the Bat-something. A red 1969 Chevrolet Camaro, the one the redhead had been dreaming of since the Wammy's times. Mello smiled against his will. At least one of them had made their dreams come true, huh? "Let me guess..." he started, looking at Matt, the other's eyes plastered on the vehicle "You stole it"

Matt huffed in annoyance. "It's owner didn't even love it the way it deserves to be loved" he answered, his eyebrows furrowing at the unpleasant memory. "It's like giving the Batmobile to... Dunno, Iron Man?" he shook his head in disgust. "That geezer didn't deserve it"

Mello rolled his eyes. "I don't get a thing from what you're saying. Can we go? Or are you too drunk to reach the door?" he asked. Matt opened the driver's door.

"Just jump in" he said, starting the engine. The car gave out a loud throb.

Mello made himself comfortable on the seat next to Matt. It was a really unusual feeling. He felt almost... At home. He wasn't the free-floating raft he'd been anymore, at least for some time. Now he had that madman to return to and listen to his carping about that Steel Man or how he was called. He smiled at the redhead.

"Let's get going, shall we?" he said, already finding all those Matt's features which developing he'd missed familiar. "Like in the old times, isn't it?" he found himself saying. The redhead chuckled.

"Yeah... Mellie-chan" he answered, receiving a hard fillip in the ear.

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**ZJeM, 21-23.02.14**

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**From author:**

I'm sorry it's so short. T^T

Iron Man bashing was intended. I regret nothing.

Have I overdone it with the "feeling at home" fluff in the end? O-O

Oh, mellie, I realized I used your nick in the fic after I finished writing. If you're not OK with it, I'm sorry. ;)

THANKS FOR READING!


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